Words That Rhyme
by ThisLittleDeath
Summary: Alice had been considering words that rhyme. Thimble, nimble... The sight of Hatter's hands have a strangely powerful effect on her. Rated M for romantic situations.
1. Thimble, Nimble

**Just a little Alice/Tarrant drabble. All this talk of stockings and gloves got me thinking of Tarrant's hands... **

**Rated M~ for possible future scenes**

**Please Review~ Enjoy!**

**~TLD**

**(P.S. for truly excellent stories of stockings and gloves and pears and, oh so much more, do check out the works of Amaranthea and Manniness, in particular. You'll be glad you did!)  
**

* * *

**Words that Rhyme**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Thimble, nimble...**

Lately, Alice had been considering words that rhyme.

She supposed it was a sign of her growing comfort with her new home in Underland.

Or, perhaps a sign of her ever-growing relationship with one Mad Hatter. It'd been several months since her return, which was met with a rousing welcome of cheers and parties and hugs and kisses all around. But even the joyous frivolity of Queen Mirana's banquet or the crushing embrace of two very excited Tweedles, couldn't compare with the rakish green gaze that had stolen her breath away.

Like any proper Victorian lady, Alice had smiled politely back, praying that her own, in her mind rather dull, gaze might convey what her spare words could not at the time.

"Hatter," she'd greeted him, a shy smile playing about her lips.

His answering smile had been dazzling.

And that was it, she recalled, the first time he'd held out his hand to her, offering her an escort to the first of many parties – and then later again on the journey back to his home in the windmill – that'd she noticed it, _really_ noticed his hands.

"Alice, dear, would you care for some more tea?" Tarrant's voice shook her from her reverie.

She shook her head delicately to bring herself back to the present. A quick glance around the room reminded her that she was seated on a low sofa in Tarrant's workroom, enjoying the sweet summer breeze through the open window and a warm cup of tea as her beloved Hatter worked away, his swift, nimble fingers sewing, cutting, and stitching away at yet another masterpiece.

She smiled, basking yet again in her own little slice of bliss.

"Alice?" Tarrant's voice rang out, a slight tremor of concern caressing her name.

She shook herself again, _How silly of me! I've yet to answer!_ "Yes, please."

She watched as he detached himself from his worktable in order to pour her more tea.

"Oh! Forgive me," she exclaimed, "Please don't stop working on my account! I can pour myself more tea." Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. _Oh what must he think of me!_

But Tarrant only chuckled softly, his green eyes glinting with fun and charm.

"Don' be silly, lass." His soft Scottish accent seemed to warm the air between them. "It'be mae pleasure," his smile could have lit the room aflame.

Alice couldn't resist the draw of his green-gold eyes and felt herself locked in them, the force of his gaze freezing her in place and melting her from the inside out. He held her captive thus for a long moment until Alice felt she'd surely collapse into a hyperventilating heap, when he bowed his head with a sudden movement, turning his attention to the tea service laid out on a nearby table.

Alice thought she detected the hint of a wicked grin on her Hatter's face, but even that could not hold her attention for long.

His long, be-thimbled fingers enveloped the teapot, lifting the porcelain like it was the most precious treasure. He moved with assurance, but with care, each gesture like a choreographed dance, each movement like poetry of strength and grace. His hands paused, one finger tracing the lip of the fresh teacup he'd poured for her, and those golden-green eyes found hers again.

"Cream, dear?" he murmured, his voice almost a purr.

Alice's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. _Breathe, Alice_, she scolded herself. But even so, when she spoke, her voice was breathless whisper, "Yes, please…"

Tarrant's smile was hidden with a small nod as he returned his attention to her tea.

Alice swallowed, taking the opportunity to breath when she wasn't in the thrall of Tarrant's gaze. _Now get a hold of yourself, Alice!_ She chided herself. _It's just tea!_

And yet, the sight of his hands and the way they wrapped so gently around the slender creamer, the thimble on his middle finger tapping ever so slightly against its porcelain surface…

Alice felt a warm blush across her cheeks that spread like a tingling down her neck. As she watched him, a heat bloomed unbidden from somewhere within her and suddenly she found herself standing.

Tarrant's eyes lifted curiously from his work. "Alice?" he asked, his green eyes widening in concern.

_I must look completely mad,_ she thought. But she couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't think of any way to explain the strange effects Tarrant's hands had on her, or any way to squelch the tingling heat they'd caused in her.

"Alice, are you alright?" Tarrant's voice was definitely concerned now, and he closed the space between them in a few long strides.

He was close now. She could smell the scent of tea and sugar and fresh spring air that seemed to radiate from him.

She kept her eyes on his lapel, suddenly afraid of looking into those all-seeing eyes for fear of… _well, of what Alice?_ she asked herself. Afraid of revealing her altogether _improper_ thoughts? Afraid of getting trapped in those eyes and losing all control over her over-heated body?

But before she could figure it out, soft hands cupped her cheeks.

Shivers ran down her jawline, across her throat and, torturously, down her body. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch, the way his strong, rough hands held her face as if she were a fragile, precious treasure. She felt his thumbs draw small circles on her cheeks, bringing a smile to curl her lips and a soft moan of pleasure to purr in her throat.

His hands didn't move, though she knew he must have heard her, and a blush threatened to interrupt her moment of bliss, but before it could give her away, Tarrant lifted her chin lightly, pulling her face out of his lapel.

_I should open my eyes,_ Alice thought, _he'll want to know why I'm behaving so strangely_.

But before she could, she felt a soft pressure on her lips. The feeling was amazing, and a soft gasp 'Oh' escaped her control.

Heat, fast and strong, flooded her and suddenly his soft kiss was not enough. And now it was her hands on his face, and her lips pressing ferociously against his.

But her Hatter; he never kept her wanting. His nimble hands tangled in her hair, caressing the nape of her neck. The cool metal thimble raised goosebumps on her flesh, sending chills down her spine and making her hair stand on end.

She gasped, suddenly breaking the kiss, her hyperventilating truly threatening to rob her of all breath. But as she wrestled with her breathing, his mouth explored along her jawline, planting kisses and nips as he worked his way down the side of her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head as each new kiss ignited a fire that threatened to pull her apart, melting her, freezing her, and drowning her in helpless pleasure.

And then, _Oh God!_, his hand found her shoulder and those strong fingers dug into her flesh sending shockwaves of pleasure all the way down to her fingertips. A low moan filled her chest, and then suddenly, her legs gave way.

"Oh my!" she gasped, but his hands were there again, catching her before she could hit the floor. He wrapped in her those strong arms, one hand tucked securely around her waist and the other under her knees, pressing her firmly against his chest.

"Are yo' al'ra?" Tarrent purred, his green-gold eyes and Scottish brogue mesmerizing her yet again.

It was a long moment before Alice could speak. And even so, she found her words to be _most_ inadequate.

"Um," she paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "Yes. That is to say, well, afterall, um, well, what I mean to say is…" Alice floundered, her face turning quite pink. She drew a deep breath. "Thank you," she finished formally. She stared at her lap, afraid to see whatever the Hatter's eyes would have to say about her silly response.

As so, she couldn't see Tarrant's blinding smile and the utterly charmed look in his eyes as he beheld, in his estimation, the most perfect creature in all of Underland or Otherland.

"My pleasure," he replied sincerely.

The gravity in his voice compelled her to look up, and the sweet, loving smile she saw there banished all embarrassment.

Too soon he was setting her down, and too soon he was bringing her tea, and too soon he was back at work. But as Alice sipped her tea and watched the nimble fingers of her beloved caress and kindle, tame and excite the fabrics in his care, she couldn't help but think of words that rhyme.

Thimble, nimble… Care, tear, bare, stare…

**Please let me know if I should continue. Of course, if you have ideas for a second installment, send them my way or feel free to write them yourself!**


	2. Shears, Tears

**Ok, Here it is, Chapter two. Mostly Hatter's perspective, as you'll see. (Excellent suggestion, jennieman! Thanks!)**

**At LEAST one more chapter to follow. You'll see why.**

**Thank you for all the amazing reviews! Please let me know what you think of this next chapter!**

**Enjoy~**

**~TLD  
**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Shears, tears…**

Tarrant Hightopp was a craftsman. His trade was his breath, his very life-blood. How many years had he immersed himself in the snipping of his shears, the clicking of his sewing machine, the swishing of fabrics sliding through his rough, calloused fingers?

He found it somewhat ironic, that is, when he thought of it at all, that the very trade that had accelerated his descent into Madness, was the self-same trade that gave his troubled mind the solace it needed to keep the Madness at bay. His busy fingers kept his roving mind in check, calming him, centering him.

But not today.

Today, Tarrant's mind was helplessly roving, spinning, it seemed.

A strange thought grabbed him and he was suddenly reaching a tentative hand into his hair. _No, _he thought, _Not spinning. _He dispelled the image of himself performing the Futterwacken with a slight shake of the head. _Silly of me,_ he thought, chiding himself, _I ought to know if I were dancing!_

With a slightly self-deprecating smile, he lifted his head to the source of his roving mind.

Alice was seated once more on the small sofa on the far side of his workroom, sipping her steaming cup of tea, a slightly bemused expression on her beautiful face.

For the moment her attention was diverted, so he stole an extra glance, noticing with equal parts arousal and chagrin that her lips were ever-so-slightly swollen.

Truth be told, he wouldn't have been able to explain, should anyone ever ask, though how or why they would come to ask such a personal query of him, he couldn't say, just _what_ had caused Alice's furious blushes earlier that afternoon. But her contented sighs, her delighted moans, _those_ he understood perfectly.

And that kiss! Tarrant felt a flush around his collar just remembering that sweet, and then, so _powerful_ kiss! He was sure he could still taste her sweet, fresh fragrance on his tongue. And weren't his fingertips still tingling from running them through her soft, billowy locks? _Oh Alice_, _what a Most Magnificent creature you are!_

She looked up at him then, catching his wandering gaze. The blush that he felt warm his cheeks was mirrored on hers. And then…

_But what was that?_ Alice smiled a small, knowing smile. He caught a glimpse of it as she tried to hide it behind the rim of her teacup. She dropped her eyes, still smiling into her teacup, and suddenly he realized, _Tarrant! You're staring!_

Gaping was more like it. Gazing openmouthed in awe at the beauty before him, his jaw hanging agape like a…

_Still staring, Tarrant!_

Clearing his throat, Tarrant dropped his gaze, and with renewed vigor, dove into his work. The snipping and clicking and swishing resumed at breakneck speed. The din rose to such a crescendo that, not only did he _not_ notice the slender form standing before him, but he didn't hear her delicately clear her throat.

"Tarrant?" Alice's soft voice chimed like a bell. And despite the clatter of his work and the roaring whirlwind in his mind, Tarrant immediately recognized that voice, and, with a start at her sudden nearness, jolted upright.

"Alice! – Ah!" he cried, clutching his left hand in the palm of his right, his eyes darting from Alice's face to the streams of blue blood dripping down his wrist and over his knuckles.

"Tarrant! Your hand!" Alice gasped. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something, _anything_ to help staunch the bleeding.

"Ay' o' the most slurking urpal slackush scrum…" Tarrant's Scottish brogue hissed and cursed himself in Outlandish. "O' all the clumsy…" His shook his head in pain and annoyance, his green eyes darkening to a disturbing yellow-orange. Just as he was about to throw himself about the workroom, his rage hindering his search for the first aid he needed, Alice was there.

He whipped around and was suddenly halted by two small, soft hands on his face.

"Tarrant!" she shouted, in her version of a sharp tone.

His orange eyes broke under her touch and his manic flailing ceased. But still, she held him securely, staring deeply into his eyes as she watched them cool and focus.

And suddenly, he saw her. _Really_ saw her. The stormy haze of Madness thinned, and there she was, her smooth, sweet, Alice hands holding him, soothing him. She was close, so close her could hear her every breath, could feel the beating of her heart in the steady pulse on her wrist. He gazed into the depths of her eyes, matching his breathing with her own, willing his racing heartbeat to slow and make pace with Alice's.

After a long moment, Alice's eyes sparkled and a smile warmed her features. He didn't know what she saw in his face, but he smiled back, feeling a peace he hadn't felt in… oh, longer than he could remember.

With a sigh, she drew her hands from his face and ripped her eyes from his paralyzing gaze. "Let me have a look at you," she said, seeming to expect a fight from him.

Instead, he smiled, and placed his bloody hands, still clutched together, in hers, and allowed himself to be led to the sofa. As she sat him gently down, her eyes tightened in concentration, seeming to prepare herself for whatever horrible injury might be hiding inside Tarrant's closed fist. Her hesitation distracted him from sight of alabaster skin and her rosy lips, bringing him, unfortunately, back to the present.

"D'nae trouble yur'self, lass," he murmured, just a hint of brogue softening his tone. He pulled his hands back lightly, meaning to spare her the trouble, but instead she gripped him more tightly, her resolve seeming to solidify.

"It's no Trouble," she insisted, her voice still rough, and _very_ stubborn. She grabbed him roughly by the wrists and laid his bloody hands in her lap, right on her pretty blue dress.

"Alice-" he tried to protest the destruction of such a pretty gown, but one narrow-eyed glare silenced him. He bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from smiling and the overwhelming charm of Alice's 'fierce' face.

But with a whoosh, that face was bowed over his hands, her wavy blonde hair hiding her face as if behind a lush, fragrant curtain. And then he felt it. Tentative fingers caressed his burning fists, and he forced his fingers to relax, to succumb to Alice's tender ministrations.

Her fingers were soft, oh so soft, and she barely touched his skin, like the kiss of a bread-and-butter-fly. She pried his right hand away, revealing his damaged left hand underneath. She let out a tiny gasp at the sheer quantity of blood pooling in his left hand, and he ached to pull away from her, to spare her from the sight of it, but she held him fast. With a wet cloth, she bathed his hand, smearing the dark blue liquid across the white towel, in streaks against her gown, and across her own arms.

He wondered, briefly, what Madness it spoke of in him, that the sight of his blood across Alice's pale flesh could… well, _arouse_ him so, before banishing the thought as, well, pure Madness.

When he focused again, he saw that the majority of the blood was gone, revealing, really, a very small slice along the inside of his left palm. _Damn shears_, he thought, chastising himself, yet again, for being too careless while cutting.

Alice's stiff posture relaxed as she applied salve to the wound and wrapped it in yet another bandage. But Tarrant found his own body tensing. With each casual brush of her fingers, with each tilt of her head that had her hair brush against his face, with each shift of her knee that just barely grazed his own, Tarrant's body stiffened in pleasure and arousal. _Calm down you slurvish…_ he scolded himself.

Alice let out a breath in a long huff, catching Tarrant's attention.

"Alice?" he asked, tentative. She still hadn't raised her eyes to his. "Ar' you al'rait, luv?" he asked, putting one, non-bloody finger under chin and gently raising her eyes to his.

His breath caught in his chest. Her eyes were welling with tears!

"Alice, love?" he cried, his voice trembling. "Please, tell me what's wrong?" Blood or no blood, he cupped his right hand against her cheek, needing to comfort her _somehow!_ To his immense pleasure, a contented smile graced her features. But still, she didn't speak.

"Alice, _please_," he begged. "Tell mae."

Her eyes opened slowly, and with a guilty look on her face, whispered, "Tarrant," her voice shook slightly on his name, "Be honest with me. Don't try to spare my feelings. Tell me," she paused, drew in a deep breath and whispered, "How badly did I hurt you?" The tears welled again, threatening to spill like torrents down her flushing cheeks.

The sight of her tears nearly stopped his heart.

Bandages or no bandages, Tarrant did free his hand now and cupped her face in both his hands, bringing his forehead to rest gently on Alice's.

"Shh now, luv," his emotions rumbling out in his rough brogue, "you d'nae hurt mae. Not a bit. You 'ear mae?" he asked, as soft sobs began to rack her chest. "Not a bit. Shh…" he crooned. He wrapped her in his arms then, her soft head nestled in the hollow of his chest, and slowly they rocked, the Hatter's soft murmurs and Alice's muted sobs the only sounds in the empty windmill.

He didn't know how long they sat thusly, but eventually Alice's big brown eyes peeked out of the sanctuary of his chest and ensnared him. Her expression was slightly sheepish, but still ever so stubborn. She whispered, "You swear?"

A dazzling smile broke across his face and he even chuckled despite himself. "Yes!" he laughed. But he smothered his smile at her unhappy expression and stared back, the sincerity in his gaze unmistakable. "I, Tarrant Hightopp, Hatter to the White Queen Mirana of Underland, do most solemnly swear, that you, Alice Kingsleigh, did nothing but minister ever so tenderly to my wounds…" His voice grew softer and he drew his face closer to hers, "with the most gentle of touches…" His lips were inches from hers, and he whispered, "and with the most Muchness I'd ever seen."

Alice's lips turned up into a sweet smile. Tarrant brought one hand to her chin, and, tilting her face up to his own, whispered, "Thank you, Alice." He brought his lips to hers in a slow kiss that sent a flame down his spine. Unthinkingly he moved closer, deepening the kiss, pressing until a reaching feeling tugged in his belly. Alice's lips parted slightly under his pressure, and with slow, shallow movements explored her mouth with his tongue. _Oh the warmth of her! And the sweet taste of her lips!_ Tarrant felt a low moan building in his chest.

He didn't want to stop. In fact, the building desire in him _begged_ him not to stop, but the rising pressure and the ever-growing need that was burning like a fire within him was swiftly compromising his control. He needed to… Yes, he must stop. _Now!_ his thoughts shouted. And with an achingly painful last kiss, he pulled away from his beloved.

Looking on her face, he smiled hugely to see her eyes still shut, her chin still tilted up to him, and her now swollen lips pursed slightly as if pained to have him go.

Languidly, she opened her eyes. The swirling mahogany depths seemed lit from within, as if by thousands of tiny stars, as she threw him an inviting, teasing smile.

"You're _welcome_, Tarrant Hightopp," she murmured.

And his breath caught, wondering if the innuendo he heard was merely of his own making…


	3. Lave, Crave

**Sorry for the delay - Life insisted on interrupting my writing. Here is Chapter Three! Looks like the story might be a BIT longer than I originally thought. Hope that suits you! Thanks to everyone for the great reviews! Please keep it up ~ Let me know how I'm doing!**

**Enjoy!**

**~TLD  
**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Lave, crave…**

Alice's body was on fire. She had been like a firecracker, between her inflamed desire and her fear at seeing his hand and _oh_ _all that blood!_ She could have sworn that her heart was beating out of her chest with her panic and her fear. But then, then he was holding her, stroking her, crooning to her in that velvety voice that made her skin tingle.

_And oh! The kiss!_ His soft lips had lit the fuse and the sparkling wick seemed to sputter and spark all the way down her body. As his kisses deepened she felt a trembling that, had she not been sitting down, would have _surely_ knocked her to the floor.

_Again_, she thought wryly. She shook her head in annoyance. _First, I interrupt us with something as silly as fainting, and now this?_ She looked up at her beloved hatter's face. _Why, oh WHY did he stop?_

She sighed, but couldn't completely keep her lust out of her reply.

"You're _welcome_, Tarrant Hightopp," she'd said. _Welcome to any and every part of me you desire_, her eyes added.

His swimming green eyes were locked on her face, and she noticed a searching in them. _What was he looking for?_ Perhaps he heard her unspoken plea? Just in case, Alice gazed longingly back. But after a long moment, Tarrant simply smiled politely and turned as if to get up.

_Oh hang it all!_ Alice cursed herself. _Why won't he…_ She halted that train of thought.

Why did she need _him_ to initiate? Wasn't she the Champion of Underland? Slayer of the Dreaded Jabberwocky? Where was her Muchness now? _Besides,_ she thought, _he's much too much of a gentleman to simply assume that I…_

That thought decided her, and, with a sudden movement, reached out, trapping the Hatter's hands in her own before he could rise from the sofa.

"Wait," she said softly.

Tarrant's head whipped back in her direction, his eyes immediately seeking hers. Her determined expression immediately softened when she saw that look in his eyes. _Was it hopeful?_ She couldn't say for sure. But his seemingly backlit green eyes positively glowed in his face.

"Tarrant, I –" she began, confidently, but, after a tiny pause, found with a shock that she had _no idea _what to say! _Oh Alice! _she thought, _Do say something!_ But as words failed her, she found she couldn't hold Tarrant's hopeful gaze. Dropping her eyes in embarrassment, she was suddenly staring at-

"Oh Tarrant, your hands!" she cried, suddenly remembering all the blood. "You, that is to say _we_," she added, noticing her dress and arms as if for the first time, "are positively-" but she stopped herself, afraid of upsetting Tarrant with her semi-hysterical tone. After a deep breath, she finished formally, "that is to say, we should probably get cleaned up."

Rearranging her features to hide her chagrin, she looked up at Tarrant. However, the charmed expression on his face, manfully holding back laughter, nearly undid her and she found herself laughing - the first truly carefree smile of the day lighting up her face.

After a moment, though, he couldn't help himself and suddenly his laughter was mingling with hers. And then gently, as if she were the one who'd injured her hand, Tarrant's hands closed around her own and lifted her gingerly to her feet.

There they were again, Tarrant's hands, holding her, guiding her, escorting her to a water basin near his workstation. The water wasn't warm, but when Tarrant's hands rubbed hers beneath the silky surface (being mindful of his newly bandaged hand, of course), Alice felt a fire erupt in her belly. Slowly, dark blue ribbons poured off her pale skin, swirling in the basin like the rushing of an oncoming storm. His gentle hands massaged her palms, her knuckles, rubbing erotically along the lengths of her fingers and into the spaces where they rejoined her palm.

Alice felt a purr in her throat begging to erupt as the tingling from her fingers traveled up her arms, across her throat, and all the way down to her belly. She bit down hard, refusing to moan aloud. Thankfully, Tarrant's hands were moving, releasing her hands from the torturous ecstasy. They laved and caressed her wrists, wiping and washing the blood, _his blood, _she thought, from her skin.

She wasn't sure why that distinction seemed so important to her at the moment, but _oh…_ and then his hands were on each of her forearms in turn, inching slowly toward the hollow at her elbows, smoothing away the blood with cool water and his warm caresses.

This time she couldn't hold back the moan that erupted from her throat.

Her eyes jumped to his face, desperate to see what his eyes would reveal.

"Oh," she breathed, the sight of him driving the breath from her lungs.

He was staring back, his green eyes smoldering in his face, a hungry, desperate intensity making them glow like emeralds. His jaw was tight with restraint, but those hungry eyes looked achingly ready to pounce. Her lips parted slightly in desire and need, and a golden flash shot through Tarrant's eyes, before his jaw seemed to tighten more – scolding and restraining himself. _Always the gentleman_… Alice thought, a slightly annoyed edge to her thoughts.

He drew a deep breath, forcing himself to speak.

"Alice," he began, struggling to keep the passion and the brogue out of his tone, "Maybe we shouldn't-"

But Alice couldn't let him finish that thought.

"Tarrant," she said, her voice finally catching up with the will of her body, "Don't say that. Please don't. I don't care what's proper," she pulled their, now clean, hands from the water, "And I know that you would protect me from anything, do anything to keep me safe," she smiled as she moved, pressing her body and their intertwined into Tarrant's chest, "But, _please_, don't protect me from yourself. Don't try save me from this."

She paused, begging with her big brown eyes. Tarrant's eyes narrowed in confusion. _What is she saying?_ he thought.

"Ever since I decided to stay in Underland," Alice continued, "_to stay with you_, all I've done is daydream about these hands, and what it would feel like to have you touch me, _really_ touch me," she whispered, kissing his knuckles.

Tarrant drew in a shaky breath.

"I'm tired of imagining it," she purred, "I want to _feel_ it." Alice's big, mahogany eyes drove into his. She could see the arousal and restraint warring in them as flashes of gold cracked like lightning through the green.

"Please," she whispered, bringing her lips only inches from his, "Tarrant."

It was his name, whispered from her lips that did it. With one fell swoop, his will was broken, his need completely unhinging him. He felt his restraint crumbling around him, a reaching in his stomach that ached like a physical blow. As his desire slipped around him like a veil, its smoothing haze obscuring everything but pleasure and need, Tarrant felt a sudden surge of trepidation.

In a flash of panic, he searched his feelings for signs of the Madness that often claimed him when his passions were inflamed. It was true his blood was boiling, and yes, his heart was pounding in his ears, but he couldn't feel that foggy pressure that descended over him smothering his will and claiming his mind.

All he felt was awe at the magnificent creature before him and a crushing desire to give her what she asked.

"Alice…" he murmured, his brogue rumbling out like a growl. Alice felt it tighten the muscles in the pit of her stomach. He disentangled his hands from her own, and brought them up to her face. His body strained in intensity, but when he cupped her soft face in his hands, his touch was exceedingly gentle. He smiled a slightly wicked smile that, under different circumstances, might have caused Alice to blush – but instead simply set fire to her insides.

"Aye," he continued, whispering, "An'thae fer you, Alice. _Everythae_." And his brogue descended into a low growl as his lips crashed on hers.

"Oh," she moaned, as sensations washed over her like a tidal wave. His lips caressed her now, so soft and yet so firm. His tongue tickled her lips, begging entrance. His hands gripped the sides of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, arousing the nerves along her spine.

_Yes!_ she almost screamed, but instead, moaned aloud, parting her lips as she granted him access. This is what she'd been craving! With sudden ferociousness, Alice's hands left his chest, needing to feel him, to stroke his statuesque face, to tangle in his silky hair. And so they wrapped around his neck, pressing her mouth and the entire length of her body flush against Tarrant's.

This time the moan erupted from Tarrant's throat.

How many times had he dreamed of holding Alice like this? Of wrapping her in his arms as he did now, one hand locked around her slim waist and the other entwined in the fragrant curtain of her hair? How wrong his imaginings had been! How horribly, laughably lacking! _In some ways_, he mused, _a raven is decidedly NOT like a writing desk!_

The flavor of her coursed through him – Earl Grey and sweet cream. It was like a burst of adrenaline straight into his veins. His tongue traced her sweet, soft lips – so ripe and plump, like squimberries in the height of summer. He resisted the urge to sink his teeth into them. Her eager mouth responded to his every move, tasting him, feeling him. Her fingernails dug into his skin, her need for him becoming so great.

He broke away, gasping – his own need becoming painful as an aching trembling threatened to shatter him. Her body was pressed so closely to his now, he swore he could hear her heartbeat trying to escape her chest. He explored down her throat, feeling the tantalizing beat of her pulse point on her neck against his tongue. And further down now. His lips and fingers displaced the lace at Alice's shoulders, delighting in the goosebumps his light caresses drew on her skin.

"Oh Tarrant," she whispered, her head tipping back, her body riding high on the wave of sheer, unbridled pleasure. He groaned against her skin – the sound of his name from her lips nearly driving him insane.

His pause was momentary, but it was long enough for Alice's fingers to find his cravat. She bowed her head into his chest, and before he knew it, his cravat was gone and she was fighting with the buttons on his shirt. And then, _Great scones and saucers!_ her hands on were on his chest, her cool fingertips searing his skin with icy burns. His eyes closed as her nimble fingers snaked around his neck, pulling his throat down to her lips. And, _Oh for the love of all that is rightly and truly Mad! _her warm mouth was on his neck, her teeth, _Great leaping March Hares!_ skimming ever so slightly across his skin.

He felt his body melting, taking his worries and his fears and his restraint right along with it. She was leading him to a steep rabbit hole, pushing him ever closer to the rim, begging him to fall through with her. To tumble into oblivion, into fantasy, into wonder. And Oh! How he longed to fall with her! _How easy it would be! How perfectly, expertly, wonderfully, magnificently, superbly Right it would be!_

He clutched her to him more tightly, taking that deep breath before the plunge – before he would release himself to his desire, to his need, to his love-

Tarrant paused. A sudden thought gripped him. _She couldn't know_, he thought. For all the time that Alice had spent in Underland, for all the things she'd learned about her new home, her knowledge of the ins and outs of Underland rituals and lore were terribly lacking. She couldn't know, even now as she dug her fingernails into his shoulders, that what she is asking for is far more-

"Tarrant," she whispered against his throat, breaking him from his thoughts. "Is everything alright?" She'd noticed his abstraction, and now pulled back so she could examine his face.

For less than a half a second, some buried feral voice in Tarrant's head told him to say 'Yes' and continue where he left off. But even as that half-second ticked away, every other voice in Tarrant's mind, which were, generally speaking, all more noble than that one long-buried voice, forced him to reply, "Actually, Alice, um…" His brow knit in confusion, not really sure how to tell her what he knew she needed to know.

"Yes?" she asked, clearly troubled by his response.

Tarrant took a deep breath, hoping that his voice was meanwhile rearranging words in his mind into a sensible order such that when he exhaled all the information would be expelled in a comprehensible manner. As it was, this is what he said:

"Alice, there are certain things about Underland, that, being Underland, and not Otherland, as you well know, that are, well, that is to say, perhaps, different from things such as they are in Otherland. That is to say, well, I can't say for sure exactly how things are in Otherland, as I've never been there myself, but from what I've learned from you, which is, in my opinion, a great deal, really, being as you are a very intelligent and well-spoken person, thus one able to impart such things to one such as myself-"

"Tarrant!" she laughed, clapping his face between her hands. She smiled widely.

"I'm fine," he croaked. He stared deep into those smiling eyes, and suddenly knew just what to say.

"Alice, what I'm trying to say is: I love you." He watched as her eyes welled with tears, her smile seeming to brighten. Heartened, he continued, "Believe me, I want, rather desperately, I might add, to give you what you ask of me, but, if you'll allow me, there is something I need to tell you first."

She removed her hands from his face, watching him with big, albeit confused, tear-laden eyes. He bolstered his courage, refusing to let fear keep him from the one thing he wanted more than anything else. He took her hands in his, his eyes lingering on their intertwined fingers for a long moment.

"Here in Underland," he began, repeating the words his own father had spoken to him many, many years before, "There are three things that are eternal: Time, The Oraculum, and the Vow of Hearts. None can be destroyed, none can be broken, and none can be reversed." He lifted his eyes from their hands, the power of the memory bringing tears to his eyes.

"You see' lass," he murmured, the emotions roiling in him bringing forth his smooth brogue, "the Vow, it' more than'a ritual - e'en withae' the words, ar _hearts_'d be makin' a vow, an' well-" he stopped, staring deep into Alice's eyes, "it cannae' be broken..."


	4. Muse, Choose

**Forgive me for my very tardy update. I promise I'm not by nature a tease. Well, perhaps that's not completely true ;) Anyway, here is Chapter Four! Maybe a little less UST but lots of declarations of love. Stay Tuned for Chapter Five ;) **

**Thank you all for the great reviews! They mean so much to me! Please, keep letting me know how I'm doing!**

**Enjoy~**

**~TLD  
**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Muse, Choose…**

"_You see' lass," he murmured, the emotions roiling in him bringing forth his smooth brogue, "the Vow, it' more than'a ritual - e'en withae' the words, ar __**hearts**__'d be makin' a vow, an' well-" he stopped, staring deep into Alice's eyes, "it cannae' be broken..."_

Alice looked up into Tarrant's glowing golden eyes. His body strained in stiffness, his face etched with pain. He looked so utterly… _heartbroken_, Alice thought.

_But surely he knows how much I care for him_, Alice thought. But, even as she thought it, she realized, she'd never said the words. She meant to remedy that situation.

"Tarrant," she began.

But the Hatter cut her off.

"Alice, please, just let me, that is, if you don't mind, please let me finish," his voice was but a whisper at the end. His eyebrows creased in concern and his eyes dropped from her face.

Fear and shame warred within him. As soon as he told her, he knew, she'd leave, and he'd lose even the chance of seeing her. He'd lose this New Alice. The one who wanted his kisses, and his hands… He stopped that train of thought before it could bring him to tears. Did she care for him? _Sure_, he thought. _But __**that **__much?_ Enough to forsake her home and her family and… her heart? _No,_ he thought firmly. The best he could hope for would be a shy, sad smile with Alice's regrets. _Well, I most certainly care for you as a friend my dear Hatter, she'd say, but_… Tarrant stopped that thought. Alice was waiting patiently for his explanation. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever _but_ Alice would say next.

He brought his eyes back to her face, memorizing the sparkle of her eyes, the pout of her lips, the angle of her jaw. All too soon those sights would be lost to him. _Again_, he thought, feeling himself spiral into depression. _And likely, forever._ Tears welled in his eyes, but he bit them back. And with a supreme act of will, spoke.

"As I sae'd," he continued, his emotions drawing his brogue to the surface. "Onc'a heart maek's the vow, it cannae' be broken. And, as'such, it wuld be hard…" he forced himself to spit the words out, "fer' yeh…teh r'turn…" He found he couldn't spit out the word 'home.' He took a deep breath, his eyes falling from Alice's face. He shook his head, fighting for the right words. "You' _could_ go, a'course," he mumbled, "its just' yeh'd feel…" He pounded a fist over his heart to try and explain.

"Heartbroken?" Alice supplied. "Lost? Desolate?"

Tarrant raised his eyes, something in Alice's tone taking him by surprise.

"Like part of my heart had been ripped away, leaving me aching and empty and forever longing for the bit that was lost?" Alice's voice was earnest, her deep brown eyes pulsing with emotion.

Tarrant felt his heart stop for a beat before spluttering hurriedly to resume its course. _Did she know? How could she? Is she…_ Tarrant swallowed, his eyes narrowing with confusion.

"Aye…" he answered, slowly, his voice and posture slightly suspicious. And _confused_. And _curious, cautious, confounded_…_ Focus!_ Tarrant commanded himself. Now was certainly not the time to get lost in the Madness of words that begin with C.

"Alice, how…" Tarrant began, but his sentence drifted off as he felt Alice moving in his arms.

Alice pushed gently against Tarrant's chest, breaking his gaze and pulling her hands from his. Tarrant watched as her cheeks turned a very appetizing color of pink before she turned her face away from him completely and began to pace, very slowly, across the room.

Alice's heart was racing. Now was the time. She'd fallen into such a nice little routine with her Hatter upon her return that she had neglected to actually _tell_ Tarrant _why_ she'd come back through the rabbit hole. At the time she'd simply told herself there wasn't the time or place for such confessions, but, looking back, she realized it had just been cowardice. _Where is your Muchness now, Alice?_ she scolded herself. She only hoped that such declarations fell under the category of 'better late than never.' She still couldn't bring herself to look at him, but she forced herself to speak.

"Perhaps," she began, "it might feel as though a hollowness had settled in your chest, making you feel empty and weightless, as if you'd just drift away into nothing if it weren't for the fact the hollowness was somehow heavy and pressed on your lungs, and dragged you into monotonous, never-ceasing misery?" She felt her eyes welling with tears as she remembered the days that had dragged by during her short stint in Otherland. How her mother's disapproving glares and her suitors' acquisitive leers seemed to follow her everywhere, and how that ache in her chest seemed to chase her breath away no matter how deeply she'd breathe in.

She didn't hear him move, but suddenly his soft voice sounded over her shoulder.

"Aye," he murmured. "And Time woul' cease to'mean anythae, leavin'ye a'the mercy o'a broken'eart tha' knos'no bounds."

She heard his words and the tears started to pour down her cheeks. She didn't turn.

"Food'n drink," he continued, his soft brogue growling slightly under the strain of emotion, "Nae-" he clarified, "e'en Tea, woul' lose all'flavor." He paused, and, laying a soft hand on Alice's shoulder, whispered, "An' all'the colors o'Underland woul'seem teh fade in'teh endless'grey."

Alice drew in a shaky breath as Tarrant's words and the thrill of his hand on her shoulder finally reached her. She tried to control the tears, now tears of joy, that were streaming down her face, but she found no amount of squeezing her eyes shut could stem the flow.

"Alice?" Tarrant's soft voice murmured. She felt a soft tickle on her neck that ran like an electric shock down her spine, as his breath pushed past her ear. A distinct wave of desire rushed over her, and finally finding her courage, she opened her eyes and turned to face him.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was standing close to her, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his eyes burning green-gold beneath the shimmer of unshed tears. He was a series of paradoxes and Alice had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. His shoulders were strong and broad, his back straight and tall, but his hands hung loosely, gracefully at his sides. His eyes burned with a feverish intensity, but were drowned in a sea of tears. He stood still, his body affecting a calm posture, but the intensity of his gaze, of the set of his jaw, of the hunger on his tender lips, belied his desperate desire to draw her in his arms.

"Tarrant…" she breathed, the sight of him momentarily mesmerizing her.

"Yes?" he breathed back, equally enthralled by the sight of Alice's sparkling brown eyes, the pink blush on her tear-stained cheeks, and the hunger that parted her lips in the most sensual pout he'd ever seen.

She took a step toward him, closing the short distance. She brought her wet eyes up to his, a new fire burning in them that made the muscles in Tarrant's stomach tighten. He felt her eyes lock on his own, and watched with unabashed rapture as her soft, pink lips opened, and spoke.

"I love you," she whispered. Her face broke into a joyful smile as she said the words her heart had been begging her to share for far too long.

Tarrant's smile remained serene on his face, until, with a sudden shock, his eyes flashed and he said, somewhat flustered, "Forgive me, lass, but what-" his voice trailed off as his recognition caught back up with him. His eyes widened with shock. "Did you just say-?"

"That I love you?" Alice supplied, her earnest voice strong and her eyes glinting with the joy of finally saying those words.

Tarrant's breath caught. It was true! Those words, _oh those most delightful, dazzling, dreamy, dynamic, deliriously decadent words! _Alice had said those three most magical words to him! He was stunned speechless by the revelation that his beloved Loved him too!

Alice's face crumpled in concern as Tarrant continued to stare at her with an incredulous look on his face. _Perhaps he doesn't believe me?_ she thought, worrying.

She felt an explanation rushing to her aid. "It's true, Tarrant," she said, her voice rising in pitch and intensity. "Every moment I was away – starting the second I put that horrible blood in my mouth…" She felt her cheeks reddening, but the Truth was pouring out, hot and fast, and she couldn't have stopped it if she'd wanted to. "I knew I had made a horrible mistake! I tried!" she exclaimed, "I tried so hard to do what I knew I had to! I took care of my mother. I finished the work my father started. And, oh! I thought it was where I was supposed to be! Doing what I was supposed to do! But no matter where I went, what I saw, who I met, my heart was never happy!"

She paused, catching her breath. "It was you," she began, "Always on my mind, always painted in my vision - even when I closed my eyes. The thought of you was always tugging at my heart, pulling back to where _I'm truly meant to be_." She paused again, her hysterical tone softening, her frantic eyes searching his face. "As soon as I could, I fell back through that rabbit hole. I knew, and I KNOW now, that I could never be whole up there." Her eyes shone again with new tears. She reached out a trembling hand, and, laying it over Tarrant's heart, she finished, "Not when my heart belongs here."

Tarrant's breath whooshed out in a shaky breath.

His eyes dropped, staring, bewitched, at Alice's hand over his heart. Her words reached him slowly, unfolding in his brain like the slow unwrapping of a most glorious present.

A rush of emotions hit him. First, joy! The warmth spreading through his heart was unprecedented. Even when he knew that _the Alice_ had returned to Underland to slay the jabberwocky and save them from the reign of the Red Queen, even when he'd realized that he could escape his death sentence and see her smiling face once again, even when she'd confessed that she'd miss him – none of those most joyful sensations came close to this. She _Loved_ him. He felt like shouting! Laughing! Futterwacken-ing most Vigorously! The sheer unbridled joy rushing through felt as though it would break him into a million pieces. It was more and better and leagues above anything he could have ever wished. Tarrant felt like his smile would stretch clear off his face.

But then…

Tarrant's smile fell slightly. _More than I could have ever wished for_… _Oh Tarrant,_ he thought, panicking, _What have you done?_

How many times had he wished that Alice would return? How many times had he imagined her choosing him over her own world? He didn't know how he'd done it, but, surely he had, as this is Underland and most everything is possible here, _somehow_ he'd Wished his Alice here! He'd done exactly what he wanted to prevent! He'd brought her here, her heart so wrapped to his that she can no longer bear her real life – her life in Otherland, with her mother and her adventures, her questions to answer, her things to do!

He'd taken away her life and her future with his damnably, dastardly, desperately, demonically, deviously, degradingly, distressingly deplorable _slurvishness!_

Tarrant's eyes wheeled in his head, green-gold-orange-red-orange-gold-red... as his Madness enveloped him. He slammed his hands over his eyes, his teeth grit in pain, as a string of Outlandish curses swirled through his head, taunting him, tormenting him, scolding him, scarring him, burying him in his self-loathing.

The pressure was building, his heart screaming as it was rent between the two conflicting emotions, his head splitting open from the power of the Madness that drowned and threatened him, and the sheer overwhelming pressure of the hopelessness that gripped him when his control spiraled away and into the cruel hands of Madness. A strangled scream burst from his throat.

"Tarrant!" Alice's frightened voice cut through the agony. Suddenly, two soft hands cupped his face.

He didn't feel himself fall to his knees, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself kneeling before Alice, her small, cool hands cupping his face. Her brown eyes, wide with concern, probed his. He could almost tell the colors of his own eyes by the expressions on Alice's face. He watched as her concerned gaze softened and cooled by small increments. When she smiled a small, but yet still heartbreaking, smile, Tarrant knew his eyes had returned to his signature green. His body calmed. His Madness dissipated. But he still felt the weight of guilt upon him.

He wanted to drop his eyes in shame before Alice, but he couldn't bear to lose sight of her. _Slurvish, _he scolded himself. Even so, he knew what he had to say.

"Forgive me, Alice," he began, his voice shaking subtly.

"There is nothing to forgive," Alice interrupted. Her smile brightened and her eyes seemed to glow with the force of her love.

Tarrant swallowed down his misery and guilt before it choked him.

"Please," he stopped her. Alice froze at the heavy sadness contained in that one word.

"Alice," he said, his voice brittle as glass, "I beg you to forgive me. Not only for my most malignant of maladies, that is to say, the Madness whose malicious malfeasance grants me the misfortune of bearing it as my namesake. But also," Tarrant's eyes welled with tears, "for _wishing_ you here. For shackling your heart to mine. For stealing you away from your family, your dreams, your WORLD!" Tears streamed down his face now. "It was the most _slurvish_ thing I, or anyone, for that matter, could have ever done."

Alice stared back in amazement. She wasn't really sure where her heartfelt speech had gone wrong, so she rewound her brain, trying to hear her own words as Tarrant might have.

Before she could figure it out, however, Tarrant spoke again. "This is exactly what I was trying to tell you about the Vow of Hearts," he whispered. "I never meant to take that life, that CHOICE, away from you." His brow crumpled in contemplation. "I don't know how I did. I mean, aside from wishing you here. But, this IS Underland, afterall," he rambled, "and well, of course, nothing is impossible…"

And suddenly it was clear. _Oh Alice!_ she scolded herself for missing the obvious.

"Tarrant!" she called, breaking him from his ramblings. She smiled, pleased to have finally understood his melancholy. She pulled on his hands, guiding him to his feet. He rose slowly as if all the strength in him had gone. His eyes, piercing green, were weary, but clear, and he held Alice's in them, as if drawing strength from her vibrant gaze.

"Tarrant," Alice said, strongly and clearly. "I'm afraid you're operating under a misapprehension-"

"M word, Alice," Tarrant's voice whispered, but a tiny glint sparkled in his eyes.

Alice smiled before continuing, "I Chose to come here. I WANT to be here with you. My heart begged me to come be here with you. This is the life I want. These adventures – with you in Underland – these are the adventures I WANT."

She smiled, watching her words lift the burden of guilt from Tarrant's shoulders. "Your heart might have wished me here," Alice said, "But mine was wishing right along with it."

"My heart made its wish abundantly clear. And that's why I've CHOSEN to return to Underland. And, if you'll have me, I WANT to make it, and you, my home." Alice's eyes welled with tears and her heart raced in her chest. She waited for his answer.

"Alice," he murmured, his green eyes clear as emeralds, "I would be honored beyond measure if you would stay here in Underland, with me, and let me love you, today and every day following until the end of Underland."

Alice almost cheered. A blush, hot and strong, rushed through her and she felt as though the power of her bliss might set her aflame. As her smile stretched from ear to ear, she cried, "I will. Tarrant! I choose you!" She jumped, throwing her arms around his neck, her sudden need to be closer to him overwhelming her completely.

Tarrant caught her deftly and pressed her warm body strongly against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, his own smile stretching the width of his face. He closed his eyes, savoring the scent and feel of Alice in his arms.

He pulled her closer, and whispering into her hair, said, "As I choose you, Alice."


	5. Spoon, Swoon

**Please forgive me for the long delay. I've been slightly distracted with some other, decidedly darker, stories, but I can assure you, I'm back on the case of our two Love-struck Loons. Something of a 'shorter' chapter this time, but, don't worry longer, more... shall we say... _detailed_, chapters in the works! ;) **

**Thank you all for your lovely reviews! I'm so pleased you've enjoyed it so far, and I hope this chapter will be no different! Please let me know your thoughts!**

**Enjoy~**

**~TLD  
**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Spoon, Swoon…**

Alice was feeling almost giddy as she wandered through the meadow of the dilapidated tea party, the tea tables still set askew, broken pots and teacups littered across the stained and dirty table linens, scones and sugar cubes strewn like long forgotten jewels glittering in the early morning sunlight. Her hand brushed idly over the silky wooden frames of the empty chairs, but her mind was far away. A contented smile played about her lips as she remembered her conversation with Tarrant the previous evening.

She felt a tightening in her belly as she remembered Tarrant's hands circling around her own, leading her to the small sofa in his workroom, his animated eyes flashing with excitement as he explained to her the Underland ritual of the Vow of Hearts. A blush colored her cheeks as she remembered the chills and undeniable surge of lust that had washed over her when Tarrant had explained that they technically _needn't_ exchange the formal vows – that Underland would hear the vows of their hearts and the joining of their… _souls_. Alice blushed furiously at the thought. Even as she ran her fingers over the smooth silver surface of the stainless silverware set scattered about the discarded tea service, Alice struggled to remember just how she'd been able to turn down such an irresistible offer. _To have him_, she thought, _all of him, so easily_. Her mind wrapped seductively around the thought. But then she recalled the way he'd glowed when he described the traditions of his clan, the intricate detail he'd provided of his elder brother's vows, the way his green eyes seemed to gloss over with wistful longing when he contemplated exchanging their vows before Underland herself.

He'd drawn her in. His beautiful description of a sun-kissed meadow, shimmering gown, swaying flowers, smiling faces, solemn promises, and the spine-tingling joy of knowing that no one in Underland or Above can break the vows they've made to one another, swirled through her mind, tugging at her heart, painting a picture too beautiful to deny. _And those hopeful eyes!_ How could she deny those eyes? Those eyes that saw right through her? That promised to give her every joy she could possibly imagine? That promised her a love, a life, an adventure that she had spent her whole life dreaming of? Even if he had wanted the horridly stuffy affair that she had spent years dodging Above, she doubted she could have denied him. _Not him._ For him, she'd do anything.

She picked up a teaspoon, musing briefly on the strange irony that had her excitably anticipating the self-same event that had driven her to flee that horrible party and dive down the rabbit hole years ago. _Not the same_, she thought, amused. It wasn't that she hated marriage. Well, she would have hated _that_ marriage, for sure. _But this? To her hatter?_ Alice sighed happily, staring at her distorted image in the spoon. Her upside-down, backwards reflection smiled back at her. _No_, she thought happily, _this is exactly the mad, crazy, wonderful marriage, perfect for a Half-mad Hatter and the Absolutely Alice who loves him. _

She spun the spoon between her fingers, loving the way its silvery surface reflected the sun in a rainbow of pinks and golds, greens and oranges. Perhaps it was the love in her eyes, but with the swirling colors, the flashes of her own face bent and distorted in whimsical ways, and the intricate, floral embroidery in the smooth silver surface, Alice couldn't help but dwell on thoughts of her beloved.

Suddenly, it hit her. _It's perfect!_ she thought, her heart leaping in her chest. She smiled broadly, an idea forming itself in her head. _A mad, crazy, wonderful idea!_ she thought, fondly.

She'd been embarrassed when her panic had shone on her face at Tarrant's mention of the exchange of tokens. Tarrant's face had immediately mirrored her blush.

"_Nae,_ he'd explained hastily, _It's nothin' like your fearin', lass." _He'd smiled. _"Jus' somethin' small," _he'd purred, and then spoken, tears glistening in his eyes, of how his brother, a painter, had made a beautiful painted glass pendant for his wife and how she'd presented him with the unicorn hair paintbrush that he carried with him always. Tarrant had blushed slightly, his eyes falling from her face, _"it's jus' a silly tradition…"_ he'd murmured, fearing her reaction. _"No,"_ she'd said, her own eyes brimming with tears,_ "It's beautiful."_

Alice spent the rest of the night - after Tarrant had insisted she take his bed _again_, had assured her that he was _perfectly comfortable_ sleeping in his workroom, and had bade her goodnight with a toe-curling, spine-tingling, belly-jerking, heart-tugging kiss that had her buzzing for hours - trying to decide the proper gift. Undecided, she fell asleep with images of hatpins and fabrics, thimbles and pincushions running through her mind.

But staring at this spoon, Alice realized she wanted something more personal. Something more… traditional. She just wasn't sure how she was going to accomplish it. Alice smiled. Luckily, she knew someone with the skills she needed. Now only if she can convince him to help her…

* * *

Tarrant hadn't slept after he'd bade Alice… _the Alice,_ the soon to be _his Alice_ – Tarrant's heart skipped a beat at the thought – after he'd bade his beloved goodnight, Tarrant retired to his workroom, but hadn't, well, _retired._ A fire burned in him, and, although he knew he'd have the majority of the next day to complete his projects, he couldn't bear to wait to begin his work. He'd promised Alice a small token, and certainly, as a man of his word, that is exactly what he'll give her, but this, well _this_ couldn't be considered a token, really.

Tarrant sighed as he ran his calloused fingers over the silky blue material in front of him. _No_, he thought, _certainly there can be nothing wrong with making a proper Alice dress for a proper Vow of Hearts._ He smiled. She hadn't brought much of her old life with her when she returned to Underland. _To me_, he thought, beaming. He didn't know much of how vows were taken Above, but he'd often heard his female relatives swoon over the ornate gowns worn by Hightopp brides. Perhaps his Alice had once had a similar dream?

Sure, she had no love for the stuffy clothing, restrictive corsets and stubborn stockings of Above, but she had so loved the dress he'd - rather hastily, truth be told - fashioned for her the last time she'd returned to Underland. And didn't he know his Alice like the back of his own hand? Surely he could create a gown for her that she'd adore. _Not a token,_ he assured himself, firmly – _simply a __**husbandly**__ gesture, providing for his future __**wife**_ – the words were almost too beautiful to be thought! Tarrant's smile had brightened the darkened workroom, and his eager fingers set off at a furious pace.

The morning had come far too soon – that rascal Time, slowing down and speeding up whenever it suits him – and had found Tarrant snoozing delicately, his head resting on some extra fabric strewn about his worktable. Thankfully, he'd finished Alice's gown mere moments before exhaustion and exhilaration had finally claimed him AND he'd had the foresight to cover said gown so that, when Alice peeked her beautifully disheveled blonde-curled head into his workshop that morning, she saw only her beloved hatter, sleeping in what was, in her opinion, a _most_ uncomfortable position.

She'd whispered his name in a half-hearted attempt to wake him, but when she found him so utterly asleep, Alice had ventured into the kitchen, with a mind to brew up a pot of tea and leave a bit of breakfast for Tarrant before she wandered off in search of the proper token.

And so, Tarrant had woken, the smell of Jasmine wafting through his dreams of fabrics and pins, to a small tea service, steaming cup of tea, creamer and sugar bowl snuggled tightly around a sweet, blueberry scone, and a small swatch of sky-blue fabric tied to a tiny ribbon around the third finger of his left hand. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, and feeling a very proud, whimsical smile curling his lips, he pulled the swatch from the ribbon and held it up to the light for closer inspection.

_Off on an important errand, but don't fret, I'll be back before you know it_

_~Alice_

"You made a rhyme, Alice," Tarrant murmured to himself. Smiling, he tucked the swatch into his pocket and turned his attention to his breakfast. It was then, as the smell of tea and cream brought him to mind of that first, passionate kiss, that Tarrant's attention was caught by the blue ribbon still tied around his finger, and suddenly he knew.

He knew _just_ what to offer as a token to his beloved.


	6. Token, Unspoken

_**Author's Note: First of all, let me apologize for this re-post. Yes, this chapter is exactly the same. Only the title has been changed, from Silver, Shiver to Token, Unspoken. This is for two reasons. 1) As you probably noticed, Silver and Shiver do not REALLY rhyme - they do sound awesome together, but, no, technically, not a rhyme. 2) And, sadly, this is the main reason that the title was driving me insane - My OCD wasn't going to allow me to have two chapters back to back with double Ss ... Spoon, Swoon - Silver, Shiver. Sad, but true. SO, I've reverted this chapter to its original working title, Token, Unspoken... I hope you like it! (Now I can stop obsessing about this chapter and move onto the next! *sigh*) ~TLD  
**_

* * *

**OK dear readers, finally, the next installment. Let me, again, apologize for taking so long to update. I had originally intended for this chapter to be Dress, Caress... but this chapter insisted on coming first. I realized that I have not yet come close to earning the M rating I chose for this story. Let's just say I hope to remedy that in the next chapter. So, thank you for all the amazing reviews! Please continue to bear with my gratuitous UST for a bit longer! You'll be glad you did ;)**

**As always, please Review! Let me know how I'm doing! And, Enjoy~**

**~TLD  
**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Silver, Shiver…**

Alice felt a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth, her earlier giddiness souring somewhat under the strain of frustration, impatience, and the insufferably illogical ambiguity that a certain evaporating cat passed off as 'helpful advice.'

"Honestly, Chess," Alice sighed, "couldn't you at least _try_ to be a bit more clear?"

"Clear?" Chess smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously and his grin stretching impossibly wide as his head cocked questioningly to the side. "Why, my dear," he smirked, "I am _perfectly clear_." He giggled as he evaporated slowly until only his eyes bobbed in the nothingness above Alice's head. The woods echoed with the cat's delirious laughter and the impatient tapping of Alice's foot.

"Chess!" she called, trying to keep the whining edge out of her voice. She gazed exasperated at the sky, realizing with renewed concern that the day was steadily getting away from her. _Oh Time! _she thought, _You really are an incorrigible…"_

"Yes, Alice?" Chess answered sweetly, popping back into view, his trademark grin undermining the sincerity in his voice.

Alice rubbed her temples, her eyes screwed shut in annoyance, struggling to remain calm. "Please," she growled between clenched teeth, her eyes still scrunched tight. "_Please_ just _tell me_ how to change the shape of _this_ teaspoon," she begged, holding up said teaspoon before Chess' glowing eyes.

Chess' eyes narrowed speculatively as his body slowly rotated around the teaspoon, analyzing it. His smirk stretched further as he examined Alice. He crossed his paws under his chin as he floated over Alice's left shoulder.

"And why, dear Alice, would you want to do something like that?" he purred, spinning over her head and landing on her right shoulder.

Alice's cheeks grew warm under Chess' scrutiny. "It's to be a gift," she murmured, averting her eyes from Chess' searching gaze.

"A gift?" he exclaimed, his voice bubbling with joy. "It wouldn't be for a certain Mad Hatter, now would it?" he asked coyly.

Alice's blushing cheeks pulled up in a smile at the mention of her love. "Ah," Chess sighed, taking her blush as an affirmation. "Well, my dear, what _kind_ of shape would you like it to take? Surely the Hatter approves of its current shape?"

If possible, Alice's blush deepened. Her eyes dropped to the beautiful silver in her hands, fingers rubbing lovingly over its smooth surface, tracing the intricate design on its silken panes, curling around the delicate curves with the caress of a lover. "A ring," she whispered.

As soon as breathed those words, the metal beneath her fingers began to soften and shift. Alice pulled her fingers away swiftly, afraid of damaging the sudden malleable metal, but her eyes were riveted to the swirling and stretching spoon in the palm of her hand. She watched as the head stretched and flattened and wound itself around and around, the shiny metal throwing rainbows in the midday sun. Alice's breath caught in her throat as the glistening metal spun and spun, until, slowly it came to rest in her palm.

"Oh," Alice breathed, awed by the gorgeous sight before her. She picked up the cool metal and brought it up to her eyes for closer inspection. The thick silver band bore the traces of having been meticulously wrapped, the metal facets blinking bright flashes in the sunlight, but on the top, Alice traced the remaining contours of what had been the spoon's handle, the beautifully delicate floral pattern tickling her fingertips.

"It's beautiful," Alice whispered, her eyes still glued to the ring in her palm. "Thank you, Chess."

Chessur chuckled over her shoulder, "Don't thank me, silly girl. Thank the spoon, of course," he added to Alice's confused look. "So nice of him to oblige you."

Alice's brow knit in confusion. "You mean…" she began.

"All you had to do was ask," Chess finished, his grin stretching so wide that all of his teeth glinted like pearls in his mouth.

* * *

Tarrant sighed as his tired fingers tied the final knot in his cravat, his emerald eyes scanning his reflection in the mirror. He'd opted for a dark blue jacket and vest over light blue shirtsleeves. _Alice Blue_, he thought to himself, tightening the knot of his deep purple cravat. He was dressed in all blues and purples. _The colors of twilight_, he thought.

The contrast was striking against his ginger hair and his brilliant green eyes. In just a few short hours, he'd be meeting his beloved on the rise near his home. And as the Sun neared the end of his journey across the Underlandian sky, they would be graced with the most beautiful view of Underland as the blues and purples of twilight bathed the brilliant hues of the Underland countryside in a soft, ethereal glow. Tarrant smiled to himself. He couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight than Alice, her gleaming blonde hair and glowing alabaster skin glistening white and gold against the deepening blue like a celestial cluster of glittering stars.

He took a deep breath, taking in his appearance for a final time. Smiling, he exhaled in a short huff. _Ready_, he thought. As his smile spread, he pulled his token for Alice from his jacket pocket, twirling it in his rough, bandaged fingers.

The metal had stabbed his fingers a few times as he had tried to coax the pointed hatpin into the proper shape, his dark blue blood dripping down the pin's shining surface. But with each hiss of pain, he'd felt the metal give under his will, as if moved by his pain and his devotion. Slowly but surely the beautiful pin twisted and bent to his will, twining and spinning in the most delicate of shapes, the metal wrapping and nestling the two gleaming gems in an intricate web of sparkling silver.

Bringing the magnificent creation to his lips, Tarrant placed a soft kiss on his beloved's token before returning it to the safety of his jacket pocket. He took a final glance about his bedroom before laying Alice' dress carefully on the bed and placing a tiny card for his Alice to find. She'd be returning from her outing soon, he knew. And as he left his home for the last time as a single man, Tarrant felt a lightness in his heart that he'd never felt before. The setting sun kissed his face as he strode, smiling, toward his future and he didn't look back.

* * *

Alice paused at the edge of the Tulgey woods on her return to the windmill, leaning heavily against the trunk of a neighboring tree, her breath gasping out of her in heaving pants.

_Have I been running the whole way?_ Alice thought suddenly, laughing internally at herself. _A bit eager, hmm Alice?_ she chided herself, blushing with the realization that she hadn't even noticed when her comfortable gait had shifted into a giddy skip and then finally into a flat-out sprint toward the home that was soon to be hers to share.

Catching her breath, she saw him.

Unthinkingly, she hid herself behind the trunk, her pulse racing at the sight of him, a delicate shiver running down her spine. Smiling into the tree bark, she slowly peered her face back around the trunk. And there he was! _Oh,_ Alice thought, _so beautiful_… Her heart felt like a drum in her chest as she watched him gently shut the door behind him, place his hat firmly on his head, and walk purposefully toward the rise on the other side of the house.

Her frantic breathing slowed and Alice found herself mesmerized by the sheer perfection of him, wrapped in the elegant colors of evening, the blues highlighting his pale skin, his bright hair. She could only imagine how the colors would dance in his emerald eyes. He moved with an unconscious grace and long after he'd disappeared from Alice's sight, she stood frozen, playing over in her mind the exact set of his shoulders, the exact shade of his jacket, the exact movement of his fingers as he closed the door behind him.

A sudden gust of air broke Alice from her daydreaming, her chattering teeth bringing her back to reality. Taking in her surroundings, Alice realized with chagrin that she was _still_ hiding behind the tree.

_Oh, silly Alice!_ she scolded herself. _Hurry now, he's waiting!_

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold raced down her spine, and she rushed the rest of the way to the windmill.

As she closed the door behind her and began to make her way up the stairs to Tarrant's bedroom, the room he'd insisted she use, she caught sight of herself in a small mirror.

_Oh my!_ she thought, eyeing her tangled hair and rumpled dress with horror. She remembered Tarrant's elegant appearance. _I certainly can't show up looking like this!_ she thought, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

She hadn't brought much at all with her from Otherland and she hadn't really bothered to go into town and purchase new dresses since her return. A frown creased her face before it was quickly replaced with a look of determination. _I'll find something!_ she vowed and she rushed the rest of the way up the stairs, worry about keeping Tarrant waiting longer than necessary hastening her steps.

She threw open the bedroom door, preparing to launch into a frantic search of her sparse belongings, but even as her feet landed with a 'thud' on the hard floor, Alice froze.

There. On the bed. It was the most beautiful creation she'd ever seen. She moved toward it soundlessly, entranced by its captivating beauty.

White? Or was it blue? It glittered like diamond and glowed from within like an opal. Alice ran her fingers gently over the soft, glittering fabric. The dress was trimmed with a hint of lace, the demure neckline sweeping sensually into the embroidered bodice, little white and blue flowers decorating the shimmering surface. Alice's fingers trailed down the gown's length, but froze suddenly, noticing for the first time, the small blue card laid gently on top.

Alice felt a rush of warmth spread from her fingertips as she picked up Tarrant's note. Her heart raced as she lifted his scrawling script up for closer examination, a sensual shiver surging down her spine as she imagined Tarrant's voice in her ear.

_Dearest Alice,_

_This isn't cheating. This Dress simply insisted on leaping to Life for you, the Naughty Thing, and, well, as I too have found Life in you, I couldn't refuse it._

_ Your Tarrant_


	7. Dress, Caress

**OK, first let me say, I'm SORRY, we haven't QUITE gotten to our M rating yet. I have a good excuse though: I wanted to spend a good deal of time on the Vow of Hearts. Hopefully you'll agree it was worth it. I SWEAR on Tarrant's Tea Time that NEXT chapter will be full of M-rated-goodness. That being said, I DO hope you'll enjoy all the wedding-esque details I included in this chapter. As I am actually engaged to be married in the next couple of months, I got RATHER caught up in the dress, the Vows, and, oh I hope you'll see what I mean. **

**Just one MORE important note: If you've read other AiW stories, you've probably read wedding-type plot lines. My personal favorite is Manniness' One Promise Kept. I tried very hard to stick to MY personal romantic inspirations for this Vow of Hearts, but you might notice some general similarities to other stories. Please note that these are completely unintentional - I'd never try to steal someone else's thunder! - any similarities are due to similar tastes and the desire to be both romantic and whimsical and in the scope and style of Underland and AiW. **

**As always, I own nothing. Please Review! They mean so much to me and let me know how I'm doing!  
**

**Enjoy~**

**~TLD  
**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Dress, Caress**

…_and, as I too have found Life in you, I couldn't refuse it. ~Your Tarrant_

Alice read those words - _those heart-stopping, spine-tingling, utterly mesmerizing words!_ – over and over until her trembling fingers rendered Tarrant's scrawling script completely illegible to her blurry tear-dampened eyes.

It wasn't until her knees felt weak and her head started spinning with dizziness that she realized she'd been holding her breath. Gasping, she sat down with a 'huff' before her now-apparently-jelly-knees could topple her to the floor.

Her unceremonious 'plop' on the bed shifted Tarrant's silken masterpiece.

Only that, only the innocent swish of satin, only the sensual stroke of silky fabric on her bare arm, only the touch of Tarrant's tremendous tribute of his timeless love could have shaken her from the thrall of Tarrant's note and Tantalizingly Tempting image of his Tanned Fingers curling around a quill and…

_Alice!_ she thought, mentally scolding herself.

"I'm fine," she breathed, blushing in much the same way that her Hatter does whenever she calls him back from any given jaunt into the Madness that occasionally claims his very busy mind.

Now back in her right-proper-Alice-mind, Alice turned her attention to the gown beside her. She ran her fingers over the sheer, silvery material.

"Oh," she crooned. She'd never felt anything so smooth. "Silk?" she whispered aloud. But it was so sheer it was practically see-through. Intrigued, her hands explored the bottom hem, pulling up each individual layer of the thin, sheer material.

_Organza_, she thought suddenly, the name of the fabric magically surfacing in her mind.

She gasped. There must have been a dozen layers! As she had thought, the topmost layer was white, silvery. But with each subsequent layer, the color darkened – Soft baby blue, glittering sky blue, warm periwinkle blue… on and on until she lifted up the final translucent layer of a soft, glowing sapphire, and then… "Oh!" she gasped again. The gown proper was a deep navy of the richest satin she'd ever felt. And suddenly she couldn't wait another second!

She jumped up, flinging her clothing - rather haphazardly, she had to admit – in her haste to feel her dress… _Tarrant's dress_, she thought with a shiver… on her body. She turned the embroidered bodice over fearing the laces she was sure she'd find there.

She'd never tried to lace herself into gown before. Her mind was just beginning to spin to the horror of having to meet Tarrant with a half-untied gown, when she saw the somewhat low-cut back of the bodice, fastened together with _Oh Thank Heavens! _Buttons!

She paused for half a second before pulling the unbuttoned gown over her head before she dispersed the idea that she'd need a corset – _Horrible Codfish! _ she thought. If Tarrant had the foresight to know she'd need buttons, he certainly would have kept her aversion to corsets in mind!

Pulling the gown around her, she smiled. _Of course he had!_ she thought. The wrapping around the bodice seemed to cling to her ribs as if the fabric was held to her flesh by Tarrant's own hands. Just as she'd thought, the satin was so soft against her skin! She stared at her reflection in the mirror, marveling at the fact that his gown fit her absolutely perfectly. The top layers wrapped her in billowing waves of glittering silver. As she moved, her dress looked like flowing water or flickering tongues of blue flame. It was as if her gown was made of night and mist. It was positively ethereal.

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons up the back of the dress. There weren't many, really, and they were literally _all_ easily within her reach.

Save for the top one.

"Grr!" she groaned, struggling to stretch her arms beyond her flexibility. "C'mon Alice!" she growled at herself, jumping a little in her effort to bend her hands to clasp that final button! "Oh Botheration!" she cried, dropping her arms in defeat, her breath heaving out in gasps. She stared dispassionately at her reflection, feeling the awe at her glorious appearance dim slightly in her disappointing defeat by one tiny button.

"Alice?"

Alice jumped at the sound of a soft, melodious voice outside the bedroom door.

"Mirana?" Alice called, recognizing the White Queen's voice. She opened the door slowly, not really believing that the Queen of Underland was standing just outside.

But sure enough, for her eyes could not deceive her, Mirana stood, her luminous form looking slightly out of place in the Hatter's colorful home, her dark eyes gleaming with wonder as she took in Alice and her beautiful gown.

"Oh Alice!" Mirana sighed, clasping her hands over her heart. "You look absolutely stunning!"

Alice smiled, blushing, as she ushered Mirana into the bedroom. Unable to help herself, Alice returned to stand before the mirror, sighing at the sight of her dress – somehow more beautiful than it was even a moment ago. "Thank you," she whispered. "Tarrant is a genius," she murmured, almost to herself.

Mirana's eyes found Alice's topmost button. "Here, let me help you, dear," Mirana offered, clasping the button, and unknowingly removing a heavy burden from Alice's shoulders. "I thought you might need a little extra help," she whispered, hugging Alice's shoulders.

Alice's brow crumpled in confusion. "How did you know?" she asked. She realized with a tiny tinge of chagrin that, in their haste to belong to each other, she and Tarrant hadn't bothered to inform their friends of their plans. "Mirana –" she began, wanting to apologize.

Mirana noticed her embarrassed blush. "Oh, don't worry, dear," she smiled. "I completely understand, and, let me say, I am so happy for you and dear Tarrant!" She smiled sweetly. "You know Chessur," she said by way of explanation. "The crafty devil never _could_ keep a secret," she finished with a wink.

Alice's smile stretched across her face. "Well, I am so glad you are here!" she cried, suddenly realizing how much Mirana's sisterly aid meant to her. Just as the tears threatened to flow, Mirana drew Alice into a warm hug and then, with enthusiasm, whispered, "Well! What are we waiting for? Let's get you to your Tarrant!"

* * *

Tarrant waited in comfortable silence as the Sun edged across the Underland sky, reaching for the horizon and his well-deserved rest. After the many, countless years he spent caged in by the horrible fog of his Madness, the smoke-filled skies of Red's reign of terror, the still smoldering ruins of his family's ancestral lands, Tarrant relished the warm comfort of the Sun's rays.

As his friend stretched toward his setting at the end of another hard-earned day, Tarrant felt as though the Sun was marking the end of his own hard-won battle as well. He knew that as the new Moon rose on him and his beloved, their union would signal the birth of a new day, a new era of healing, growth, and joy.

Tarrant smiled, his hands fiddling idly with the ring he'd made for his Alice. He looked down to smile at the sun glinting off the two colored gems nestled in the silver web. He'd chosen this hatpin, one of his favorites, specifically for these gems. One blue. One green. It was almost serendipitous the way it had simultaneously occurred to him that the peridot gem exactly matched his glowing green gaze and that the aquamarine jewel was the perfect shade of Alice blue. He spun the ring around his smallest finger. Like the jewels that were forever joined in a sea of silver, soon he and his Alice would become one.

Just as he was examining his scrubbed, de-bandaged and de-thimbled fingers, Tarrant was distracted by the sound of footsteps heading his way. Slipping the ring again into the safety of his pocket, he looked up, not into the scorching brown eyes of his beloved, but to the lumbering forms of a hare, a dormouse, two very round boys, and the sardonic grin of a floating cat. Tarrant's answering grin was _almost_ as wide.

* * *

The Sun was little more than a red-orange blur melting over the horizon as Alice and Mirana left the windmill behind and strode across the field to where Tarrant stood waiting on the rise. Arm in arm they crossed the meadow, their gowns swooshing subtly against the soft grasses. Alice's heart felt like it was beating out of her chest, her anticipation of seeing Tarrant becoming a painful ache. She tugged on Mirana's arm, not-so-subtly urging her faster. Mirana chuckled softly, but adjusted her gait accordingly.

If Alice had been paying attention to anything but the sudden appearance of a tall, ginger-haired man, dressed in a stunning jacket of twilight blue, Alice _might_ have been surprised to see her friends arrayed on the rise, waiting for her. She might have smiled upon seeing the tears glistening unshed in Mallyumkin's eyes, or chuckled at the Hare's slack-jawed gape at her beautiful dress. She would have laughed outright at the Tweedles' matching handkerchiefs, steadily dabbing matching tears, and she couldn't have helped but grin in response to the mammoth smile curving Chessur's face.

But, as it was, Alice did none of these things, because as she crested the rise and her Hatter _finally_ came into view, Alice had eyes for no one else.

He stood, tall and leonine, his hatted, deep orange locks curling around his glorious face seeming to bleed into the setting Sun – the Hatter's orange hues blending into the molten red-orange of the Sun's final kiss on the horizon. His bright green eyes seemed to glow in his pale, shaded face. And even from a distance, the look of triumph and sheer, unbridled joy struck Alice like a physical blow. He stood straight and still, a study in statuesque perfection, but Alice could feel the raw, desperate power of his posture, as if every muscle screamed to close the distance between them.

And indeed, this is exactly how he felt. Tarrant was certain, as certain as he ever was about anything, at that is saying something, that his Feet had NEVER been such obstinate and insubordinate creatures until this VERY moment. Never. No, usually when Tarrant would instruct them, 'Go, Feet,' or 'Stay, Feet,' they would happily oblige.

But not Now.

Now, as the sight of his beloved, the Most Marvelous, Miraculous, Magnificent, Magical, MUCHIEST! Alice he'd ever seen, Tarrant's Feet were screaming to ignore his command to 'Stay' and instead tormented him with urge after Gut-Wrenching Urge to 'RUN' and wrap his Tarrant-arms around the miracle that was Alice's love for him and the amazing sight of her Choosing him – _them – together – two – they – forever!_

Tarrant twitched violently as the urge to RUN nearly broke his Control.

_Not yet, lad_, he scolded himself. His smile grew as his Alice drew ever nearer.

He hadn't expected to see Mirana. Though, when his friends had joined him on the rise, he should have known the Queen would have sought out her Champion. Seeing Alice's hand wrapped daintily around the Queen's warmed his heart, though he found himself suppressing a chuckle at Alice's determined gaze and the Queen's slightly stilted gait and her heaving breaths. The Queen's pace was apparently not fast enough for his Alice.

_Well, of course not_, he thought heartily. _Alice IS a Champion afterall. _

She was only yards away when his Control suddenly snapped. A particularly bright ray of the Sun's parting gift shimmered off Alice's porcelain shin, shining golden hair, and lit her gown with a stunning sparkle of white-gold-orange-blue! that made even Chessur utter a hushed 'ooh' of pure, pious awe. The sight of her was utterly heart-stopping.

And in Tarrant's case – it was Feet-moving.

His Feet pulled him to Alice in a few short strides. And even as his cheeks flushed with the heat of potential Embarrassment, Alice's ecstatic Smile banished it away, leaving only Relief, Joy, and a healthy dose of Triumph, in its place.

In a gesture as old as Time, Tarrant held out his hands to Alice, palms up – an offering.

A Choice.

Without so much as a moment's hesitation, Alice placed her trembling hands into the strong, warm, steady enclosure of Tarrant's hands. And as those long fingers closed around her hands, Alice couldn't suppress the shuddering rush of desire that raised gooseflesh up her arms.

Lifting her eyes to Tarrant's, Alice smiled shyly, caught for a moment in his gaze, before he slowly escorted her the rest of the way to the rise. And there they were again, Tarrant's hands, guiding her, securing her, steadying her…

How he managed to keep his footing, Alice would never know, because he never took his eyes from her face. And yet, sure and steady as always, he led them to the rise and they stood, fingers laced between them overlooking the whole of Underland.

But Alice didn't think to look up and take in the view.

Her eyes downcast, she still couldn't get over how the sight and feel of his hands made her want to… _touch_.

She stared at their intertwined hands. They were so different. His long, battered fingers, no longer wrapped in bandages and the thimbles of his trade, callused from long hours, tanned from long days under the brilliant sun in Underland – these hands were so… _experienced._ They spoke of adventures and passions and…

"Alice?" Tarrant's voice broke through her reverie.

She almost didn't look up at him. A sudden thought had gripped her. He was so strong, so gloriously pure, so MUCHY and she…

The sight of her pale, frail, soft, little hands in his… She was so – _insignificant_ in comparison to those glorious hands! He'd seen so much, done so much, been so much! And what of her? _How could I deserve… _she thought, her thoughts swirling in Doubt.

_But wait, what's that?_ she thought suddenly. Her gaze narrowed, focusing at a spot on the inner ridge of her own hand.

_Is that?_

Yes! A callus along the inside of her palm from the Vorpal sword! A mark that only Underland's Champion could wear!

And then, it was clear.

Yes, Tarrant's hands spoke of Adventure, of Passion… and she was determined to have them.

"Alice?" Tarrant's voice broke through again. But this time she did not hide her face. And when she turned her eyes up to her Hatter's they blazed with Love, with Passion, and with Adventure.

Heartened by her gaze, Tarrant continued.

"Alice, my dearest, mae heart," he began, his voice sliding into his lilting brogue as the emotions swirled in a green-gold haze in his eyes. "As we stand a'fore ar friends, a'fore Underland 'erself, I swear mae heart, mae soul, mae fealty tae you, Alice Kingsleigh. I promise tae love you, tae cherish you, tae honor an' protect you, wi' all mae heart, all mae strength, all mae soul, wi' every passing breath until mae last."

As his final words echoed in the falling silence of twilight, he pulled his small, silver token from his pocket and held it in his opened palm, offering it to Alice, to Underland. The Sky rumbled as pink-orange-purple tinged clouds rolled in from the distant hills, as if rushing to hear Alice's reply.

Her eyes rested delicately on the shiny silver ring in Tarrant's palm, her heart skipping a beat at its simple perfection and the sheer serendipity that had drawn them to craft matching tokens for one another.

But even the beautiful ring couldn't hold her attention, not when her heart was screaming the words her lips were made to utter.

"Tarrant," she began, luxuriating in the taste of his name on her tongue. "Before our friends, before Underland, I swear my heart, my soul, and my fealty to you, Tarrant Hightopp. From this day on, I promise to love and honor you with all my heart, all my strength, and with my every breath, until my last."

The Sky rumbled again, like the deep, thrumming purr of a huge Lion, and Alice's trembling fingers set her silver spoon-ring in her palm, offering up to her Tarrant, and to Underland, asking Her blessings and begging Her to bind their Hearts and Souls through the simple exchange of Vows and of Tokens.

Every eye was lifted to the Heavens where the rumbling clouds spun and twisted in a kaleidoscope of deepening colors, the pinks and oranges of sunset being swallowed up by the purples and blues of twilight and dusk. The winds picked up around the joined pair, each with one hand lifted toward Underland and the other locked on the fingers of their beloved. As the Sky darkened around them and Alice's hair began to whip in the spinning winds, her eyes flashed with fear. But before she could panic, she felt a reassuring pressure from Tarrant's hand on her fingers, and _what was that?_ a reassuring _nudge_ on her heart?

Before she could think on it, a sudden flash of lightning rent the Sky and crashed down on the rings in their outstretched hands. It happened so quickly that Alice didn't have a moment to scream or feel fear. One moment the Sky was dark and the next she and Tarrant were engulfed in a white sphere of warm, crackling, spinning energy. She could see it all around her, but could not feel it on her skin. Instead it seemed to swirl within her, warming her, soothing her, purging and purifying her, opening her. The sensations were amazing!

She'd never realized before how small she was, how doubtful, how closed and alone within herself she was! Now she felt strong, steady, secure! Muchy!

_How?_ she thought, the question not even forming itself into words until other feelings hit her, and suddenly she understood.

_This is how Tarrant sees me_, she thought, awe-struck. She allowed her body to explore all the new sensations, feelings and emotions of her own, of Tarrant's, the ones Tarrant was sending to her and the ones she tried sending to him.

_What amazing new sensations!_ she thought, somewhat overwhelmed by the force of the emotions rushing through her. But even as the white sphere dimmed and faded away, so too did the sensations. And as they ebbed away, Alice felt a crushing wave of sadness in their place.

For a few short moments she had been able to _feel_ Tarrant, to _feel _his love, his courage, his _very being_. For a few short moments, they had truly been one.

For the second time in her life, Alice felt very much alone.

She lifted her eyes, welling with tears, to Tarrant, and noticed, with a start, that his eyes were misty as well. But unlike her, Tarrant's face was lit with a stunning smile. She followed his gaze down to the rings in their hands.

He lifted her ring from his palm, and gingerly holding her hand in his own, said, "Alice, take this Ring as my Heart, knowing that, as it Belongs to you, so also do I." He slid the ring onto her left hand, and Alice marveled at its warmth – wherever it touched her skin seemed to tingle with warmth, with possibilities.

She lifted Tarrant's ring to his hand and said, "Tarrant, take this Ring as my Soul, knowing, that as it is Unbreakable, and Eternal, we too, are forever Bonded as One." Her fingers were steady as she slid the ring up Tarrant's finger.

But when it came to rest, Alice was nearly knocked off her feet by a sudden STRONG rush of emotions pounding directly into her heart. She gasped at the intensity of it, and grabbed frantically at Tarrant's outstretched arms to keep from falling over.

Tarrant's arms wrapped securely around her, his own body seeming to struggle with the sudden storm raging around and within them as well. They clung to each other as the whirlwind calmed and faded until only a subtle warmth and comforting pressure wrapped snugly around their hearts.

After a long moment, they parted, and Alice looked up into the most beautiful emerald eyes she'd ever seen - before throwing her arms around Tarrant's neck as his hungry lips pressed desperately against her own!

And even though their friends were watching and clapping, and even though twilight was long gone and darkness steadily taking over, and even though they would have the entire night to explore, express, entice, _Encourage, Enrapture_**, Excite!** one another, they couldn't tear themselves away from this moment.

They felt no end in sight for the kisses that burned with new fervor, the tremors of pleasure that seemed to wrack straight through their bodies, the gentle touches that seemed to sink into their bones, the heat that trailed like wildfires across skin despite the chilly night air, the flavor, taste, _feeling!_ of lips that went beyond _physical_ and seemed to dive into the others' very Soul…

No. These were new caresses. More than merely physical. More than desire. More, more, more. And as their friends retired for the evening, Tarrant and Alice were determined to have just that.

More.

* * *

**See? Told you, MUCH longer this time!**

**Just one final note: It re-occurred to me how similar my Vow of Hearts is to Manniness' Thrice-a-Vow and I want to make sure I give credit where it is due - For me, my Vow of Hearts began with the idea that Bond-Mates in Underland should be more than symbolically One-Heart One-Flesh, but quite LITERALLY experience the benefits of being One. I got the first taste of what that might look like in One Promise Kept (which is beyond amazing, fyi), so I want everyone to go off and READ it, if you haven't already, and know that THAT'S where I first got the idea that Alice and Tarrant should be both symbolically and physically bonded.**** So THANK YOU Manniness for your amazing story - and please forgive me if I'm infringing or any terrible thing like that!  
**


End file.
